DudleyTheLad
by fireskullkills
Summary: After a man dies, he is transported into the body of a young Dudley. Unsatisfied with this predicament, and receiving a Hogwarts letter, he is resolved to make a name for himself and become an important figure on the political playground known as "Magical Britain." Rated M for word choice, eventual violence, and, perhaps, later, some citrus foods.(Pairings still up in the sky)
1. Chapter 1

_/*_

_Author's note:_

_Big thanks to __**IndigoRed**_ _for beta reading this chapter!_

_I have to say, I do miss writing and posting. Sorry for the long hiatus, I kinda lost inspiration and motivation. The muse just didn't show herself, I suppose. If you are wondering about my other stories: I don't think I'll continue writing Interesting Interface, but I might come back to If We Don't Kill Each Other, We Are Immortal? So if you have ideas on something you'd like to see from that story, feel free to let me know._

_Anyways, Read & Review._

_*/_

I died. Honestly, I would have liked to have a more heroic, or, at the very least, a more entertaining death. I managed to die in my sleep! Well, I suppose it could have been a tad bit worse; after all, dying via a car accident or something of a similarly painful nature isn't something I ever want to experience.

Well, I suppose it matters not, me being dead and all. To be honest, I kind of assumed that dying would be a little bit more… eventful, I guess? As it was, being dead appeared to be rather boring.. Nothing but an empty, endless void. Even your body does not exist. Your existence is defined by a singularity, from which all of your senses extend. A peculiar sensation, not going to lie.

Soon, however, something began to feel amiss. The ever present void began to shrink on me. Slow, at first, it almost comfortingly enveloped me in its darkness; however, soon I was being crushed by what looked like the chunks of nothingness flying toward me at different speeds. I couldn't help feeling as if I was about to become a pancake under one of those void chunks.

Just as abruptly as it began, it ended. And, at the end of this bizarre experience, my consciousness started to fade.

I did not know how long I was out, but when I awoke, something was different. I existed! Beyond any doubt, I was alive! But how? Where was I? I didn't recognize anything of my surroundings; this was not the room I died in!

The room was relatively well lit; a pleasant glow emanated from the curtain-clad window. Looking around, I noticed that the room was incredibly messy, looking like what I imagined World War 1's battlegrounds would have looked like; Clothing, broken toys, broken technology, shards of glass, were scattered all around the room. Looking around in astoundment, I couldn't help looking over myself. I was a pretty chubby boy with grease-laced, never washed, hair draping over my forehead. Who the hell am I?

Well, the answer to that question came very fast.

-"Dudley! Darling, come down! It's your birthday!"

I had never had a bombshell of this magnitude fall onto my head. Dudley? Dudley Dursley? The one from the Harry Potter universe? Dumbfounded, I made my way out of his room.

On my way down the stairs, I felt no compulsion to stomp on the stairs above my cousin; It is good to know that the old version of the fatass isn't manifesting itself in me.

By the time I reached the kitchen, Harry Potter was already frying bacon for the entirety of the family, and the dining room was filled to the brim with gifts. Somewhat taken aback, I numbly asked:

-"How many are there?"

-"Thirty-seven." - Vernon chimed in. -"Counted them myself."

-"I see…" - I was stunned. Yes; this was the world of Harry Potter. However, instead of being the main character, I was Dudley. Dudley Dursley. I wasn't even a supporting character! I was a character that was meant to pose as a pathetic, uncivilized, spoilt brat who mistreated the main character. That was actually kind of frustrating. I don't know if there was any higher power in charge of putting me in this world as such an insignificant character or if it was just random happenstance, but I decided to myself that it won't do. It won't do at all!

'My' parents were busy arguing about where to leave Harry while we went to the zoo. I couldn't care less for Harry. Although becoming friends with him, given his status as the boy-who-lived, would seem to be very advantageous, it would most likely prove to be incredibly dangerous. Knowing the future turns of events and his knack of getting into major trouble, I decided that being buddy buddy with the little kid would give me nothing but trouble for years to come. However, Harry's title reminded me of the fact that I, myself, was virtually nothing on the giant political playground of all those lords and ladies.

And if I wanted to, in any way, shape, or form be influential in this world of fixed alliances and people, I would need a way to make money. Good money. However, right now, I'm not quite certain on how to go about it. For example, if I could get my hands on the philosopher's stone this year, I would be set for life. Although I do not believe that the stone at Hogwarts would be the real deal. Even if it was, Dumbledore would never allow anybody to just walk off with it. So that option was more or less off the table. The second option was to invest in something I knew would do well in the near future. I was aware that the Firebolt broom, the competitor to the Nimbus series, would be released in about 4 years, before the Quidditch World Cup, which gave me an opportunity window before the end of the second year, maybe a little into the third. I did not remember the canon well enough to be able to say who made it and where the inventor could be found, but I did, in fact, remember that the person responsible for it's creation also happened to manufacture the Tinderblast brooms, meaning that it was just a matter of hunting down said person and seeing what percentage of the company I'll be able to snag for myself. I will need to establish myself as somebody with money. This investment would serve to legitimize the money no matter how I initially obtain it. However, before I can invest in the company, I need to figure out how to earn a large amount of money fast, and, hopefully, legally.

Money… If I recall correctly, galleons are made of pure gold. How will I be able to get gold? How will I even be able to pay for the school supplies, let alone get rich? According to my 'dad', who swole in excitement when I asked him for the exchange rates of gold (maybe he thought I was inheriting his businessman tendencies? Who knows), an ounce, **an ounce** of gold costs about a thousand pounds. And from what I knew, a large gold coin would be about half an ounce. And a wand is 7 galleons. That would make a wand, what, three thousand five hundred pounds? How can I ever afford that? Well… I suppose I'll get to that when I get to Gringotts. Which reminded me; I'm not sure how Vernon and Petunia would react to both Harry and me being wizards. Anyhow; I would get to it when I get to it.

Meanwhile, the preparations for my birthday trip to the zoo were nearly finished. Vernon gave Harry a pep talk, and Piers Polkiss was here with us. Honestly, the entire trip was mostly uneventful. However, the canon reared its ugly head yet again; I didn't push him, allowing him to talk to the snake. It was Vernon. Vernon caught him talking to the snake and got livid, pushing Harry away from the glass. Harry fell, and, in a fit of anger, vanished the glass, allowing the snake to slither away.

Vernon was very upset. Upset and confused. There were two letters; one addressed to his despised nephew, and one to his favorite son. He and Petunia had no idea what to do; comply with what they have been asked to do, or refuse to acknowledge the situation. Petunia did bring forth a valid point: those freaks would not EVER leave it be. They would pursue their family until the end of their days. This theory was proven on the next day, when they received eight additional letters, four addressed to each of the kids. What if he and Petunia relented and allowed their kids to study for a single year? Then Dudley would be able to do amazing things, right? And, as a bonus, no Harry Potter for the entirety of a year? Amazing. The patriarch of the family was teetering on the edge of the giant decision. The next day, on a Sunday, SUNDAY, the day that was supposed to be mail-free, that decision was made for him. The owls. The owls flooded the entire living room with those God forsaken letters; and Vernon knew that there was no way back. He would send his son and Harry on their merry way to the freakishness. However, he wouldn't be a great father if he didn't give his own son a sum of money to go out and do his own thing. How much would be enough? One hundred pounds? Well, judging by the fact that one needed a cauldron and a set of ornate and accurate scales, it would have to be a slightly greater sum. And who knows how much a wand would cost. So Vernon, without much hesitation, came into his son's room, and gave him four hundred pounds. Harry wouldn't get a single penny out of him, however. After all, Vernon and Petunia were taking care of him for the last ten years, and the little freak should be grateful for that and that alone.

Well, at the very least, we did not go out of our way to escape the mail this time; we stayed at our house, as if 'my' parents were expecting a visitor. And a visitor we got. A giant ape of a man broke down the front door. I'll give him credit, the books don't give his absolute size any justice. He was large, barely fitting into the doorway, and accidentally breaking everything that happened to be in his way. At least he was courteous enough to fix the door behind him. Vernon was scared shitless, just like in the canon, but at least he didn't pull a gun on the surprise visitor.

Diagon Alley was absolutely stunning. I don't think I've ever seen anything like it my entire life. What I felt could probably be described as childlike wonder. The entire alley was awash with colors and shapes; the buildings stood in different physics-defying ways, and looked like they were about to topple. But we just went forward, skipping all the curious looking structures. I knew exactly where we were headed: Gringotts. Gringotts, the bane of any thief's futile attempt of breaking in. Although I'm not quite as certain that that is the case, as the only two attempts to break into the bank and access the vault that I am aware of were both relatively successful. Maybe the goblins are simply being a tad bit pretentious. Just a bit.

The white marble shined as bright as it could on this typically gloomy London day. A sign of things to come, I'm sure. The interior of the bank was equally awe inspiring; it was all imbued with gold. All of it. The floor, the counters, the walls, the ceiling; and it sure as hell was very shiny. It was, admittedly, a bit distracting. And, maybe, that IS the effect they were hoping to achieve. After all, the best person to swindle is one that is already distracted. The scene with the bank teller played out all the same, but I was able to ask if I had any long forgotten bloodline to claim. The goblin teller very politely told me to sod off unless I had a hundred galleons at my disposal for the procedure. Which, I suppose, was fair, as he was busy trying to keep the rats that Hagrid unloaded onto his desk from scattering all over the bank. Nevertheless, I was able to shake out some information about the exchange rates. I was absolutely shocked. 4.93 British pounds per galleon. I did a double take. What?! The goblins prided themselves in making anything golden out of pure gold, and none of the gold plated or gilded bullshit. That made absolutely no sense at all! Every coin was about half an ounce, and the muggle gold rates, according to Vernon, were about a thousand pounds per a single ounce. Meaning, that if I were to simply get a bunch of galleons and melt them, I would be able to obtain a lot of gold. This method, although fast and convenient, was slightly hindered by the fact that I simply could not afford to be selling all of the gold I obtain that way, as it would be incredibly suspicious for a little kid to be casually selling tons of gold out of nowhere.

As it stood, I now had about sixty galleons, and some pocket change. While Hagrid and Harry were busy tending to their business and going through their vaults, I went out to do some purchasing of my own. The first thing to buy was, obviously, a wand.

I had a plan for my stay in Hogwarts. And that plan was to network with the heirs and make strong allies, as well as to learn combat magic. I couldn't care less for other areas of study, such as that wizard math course they had. I figured I get others to help me with supporting skills; therefore, I won't go out of my way to obtain expensive equipment for herbology and potions. I fully expected there to be spare equipment in the classrooms, much like how Harry, in the sixth book, was able to obtain Snape's book on potion making.

All I needed to put my ideas into action was a wand, a set of good clothes, and some way of melting galleons. After all, I couldn't simply sell the coins as gold without melting them, as that would be incredibly suspicious, and, as far as I was concerned, against the statute of secrecy.

The Ollivanders shop was... Interesting, to say the least. The exterior was exactly what I expected the aloof wandmaker's shop to look like. The shop stood out as one of the only unkempt shops, looking tiny and shabby. But it didn't need to stand out, being the only wand shop around. Well, the only legitimate one, of course. Many, seeing that comment of mine, would ask 'why not then buy a wand from one of the less legitimate places then?' Well, contrary to many fanfictions, buying wands illegally has more downsides than upsides. For example, it is true that there is no tracker on it; however, a minor having a wand that has no ministry tracker is VERY illegal, according to the gentle giant; and I was not too eager to test the boundaries of magical law; at the very least, not yet. On top of everything, they were usually also substantially more expensive, as it was much more difficult to manufacture good wands as a wandering merchant, rather than a resident specialist like Ollivander. I do suspect, however, that many of the noble families do buy un-tracked wands for their children, to practice over the summer. An unfair advantage, certainly, but there isn't much that can be done about it. At the moment, however, I was not going to even try to seek out illegal wand sellers - it was a little too expensive for my pocket.

As soon as I entered, a distant bell rang from somewhere in the shop. It was a hollow place, with endless shelves running parallel to each other in the back of the store. But still; even knowing that a jumpscare in the form of the shopkeeper was imminent, I couldn't help but flinch upon his entry. He arrived on an automatic ladder of sorts, it simply gliding along the shelves.

-"Good morning," - a gentle voice came from above. Ollivander was a small man, with large, sunken eyes, seemingly from his obsession with his work, and hardly getting enough sleep during this prime wand-selling time. -"You are, indeed, an interesting inclusion to Hogwarts, mister…?"

-"Dudley. Dudley Dursley."

-"Ah. I see. I've never heard of your family name; so, I'm assuming, a muggleborn?"

-"Yes."

-"And yet, you will accomplish great things, my friend."

This, on the surface seemed like a simple compliment. A simple gesture that would make anybody feel special and elevated. However, I felt as if this was more than that. It felt as if he was looking deep into the confines of my soul, and seeing something that even I, myself, could not grasp. I shuddered. Was he this creepy in the books? I felt as if he knew who I was: that I was not Harry's cousin, and that I was not from this world… Jesus… I really hoped I wouldn't have to interact with the man after this.

-"Well, young man," - He spoke. -"It is the wand that chooses the wizard, not the other way around. The wand must resonate with you; otherwise, you won't be able to do those great things."

God, I wished he would blink once in a while.

-"Shall we get started?"

I nodded, and we began. Ten inches, phoenix feather, applewood? No, not quite.

Nine and a half, unicorn's hair, blackthorn? Yeah, definitely not; the fact that the wand caught on fire immediately as soon as it entered my hand was a pretty good indication of that. After a good couple of hours, I'd say, we found it. It was such a beauty, to be honest. Hah… Never imagined I would describe a piece of wood as beautiful, but that's exactly what it was. It was gorgeous. I knew that it was my wand even before I laid my hands on it. An eleven inch cherry wand with a dragon heartstring as a core. When I finally grabbed this wand I felt the connection. It was as if I found a missing piece to make me whole. More whole than I ever was, to be honest. It felt like I found a part of me that I never knew or even imagined I was missing.

-"That will be 7 galleons, Mr. Dursley"

The next stop was by the clothing store. I came by a lot earlier than Harry and Hagrid did, meaning that I missed Malfoy. It is a blessing of sorts. On one hand, I could have potentially influenced what he thought about if not all muggleborns, then at least of me; however, I really was in no mood to deal with a stuck up brat. I didn't want to ruin this, dare I say, magical, day. However, in me missing the entitled brat, I found someone else. A girl, seemingly my age, was trying on the first year robes and hats. Madam Malkin pointed me to stand right next to the girl and started measuring me.

-"Hello," - I introduced myself first. -"Are you also a first year?"

-"Ah, good morning!" - She gently spoke - "Yes, I am... I'm just finishing up picking out my robes."

-"My name is Dudley Dursley, you?"

The girl looked a tad bit uncomfortable, and looked like she was furiously debating something in her head.

-"Im Hannah Abbott. Dursley? I don't recognize that surname, so I'm guessing you are a muggleborn?"

I nodded.

-"Well… you see, here, it is custom to wait until a member of a noble house introduces themselves to you, before you speak to them. A person of a higher status speaks first, I guess?" - She looked very uncomfortable. - "You see, my family doesn't believe in that kind of etickuete… etiqete? Etiquette! That's the word. But, I know many people who would get very upset at you for not following the rules…"

I was actually astounded. This was entirely different than what I remembered from the canon. I didn't remember strict etiquette code with the pureblood families… Christ, this is going to be hard.

-"Oh, I'm sorry… I didn't mean to offend you, Miss Abbott…"

-"Oh, its okay!" - she hurried to forgive me - "Like I said, our family does not care for pleasantries, so just Hannah is fine. Just don't forget to follow the rules with others, Dudley."

-"Thanks, Hannah, I appreciate it."

By the time we finished having our little enlightening exchange, Madam Malkin finished picking out Hannah's robes, and returned to me. Hannah smiled at me, waved goodbye and left. This entire etiquette thing would be, in the words of a certain Shikamaru, incredibly troublesome.

I was sitting on a nice flat 40 galleons after those two actively necessary purchases; now, it was time for the melter. I assume it to be in the apothecary, or otherwise in the potions shop, as I saw them, earlier, selling cauldrons. Taking a stop at the apothecary revealed that they sold nothing but potion ingredients, and I hurried off to the cauldron store. It was called "Potage's Cauldron Shop", with a sign outside claiming that they sold all kinds of cauldrons.

-"Good morning!" - the shopkeeper greeted me.

-"Good morning." - I wasn't quite certain what exactly to ask. After all, an 11 year old asking for a cauldron that melts gold is a little sketchy. So I decided to take a slightly more advanced approach. The sign said they had gold cauldrons, right? Then if she said any cauldron can withstand more heat than the gold one, we will get our answer. -"What cauldron of yours can withstand the highest temperature?"

-"Oh, it is our copper ones! Here, would you like to see our collection of copper cauldrons?"

-"Yes, I would, thank you." - I smiled.

Now I just had to wait for Harry and Hagrid to be done with their purchases. I made my way down the alley, looking for something or somebody that would catch my attention. And then, I remembered. Occlumency. The magics centered around protecting your mind. Having remembered it, I immediately set off to find the bookstore. The clerk was a burly man; a gentle giant, if you will, who looked like he would fit more at some blue collar job, rather than managing a bookstore.

-"Greetings, kiddo!"

-"Good morning, sir." - I replied. -"I'm looking for a beginner's guide to occlumency."

-"Huh. Not many people ask for one of these," - He mused. - "The purebloods usually are taught by their parents, and the muggleborns never come across this concept."

-"Oh, really?" - I feigned surprise.

-"Yeah. Although, kiddo, I must warn you. Don't try any advanced occlumency until you are considered of age, at 17, that is. You could really harm the growth of your brain and your mental capacity by accidentally putting blocks where they don't belong."

-"Wait, really? I thought that every pureblood already has fully functioning mental shields?" - Immediately after blurting this out, I regretted it. If he suspected anything…

-"Oh, no, no no. That's just a myth. In reality, they come into Hogwarts with very basic foundations in those kinds of mind magics. Essentially, they are able to tell when they are being deeply probed, but wouldn't be able to detect any kind of gentle scan for emotions."

Oh, Jesus. Thank god he didn't suspect anything. I would need to really start watching my tongue. Wouldn't want to talk myself into stupid trouble. Making my way out of the store, twenty remaining galleons in my pocket and a book in my hand, I met up with the duo, was handed a ticket, and we left for home.

Throughout our entire ride home(Vernon ended up picking us up from in front of the Leaky Cauldron) Harry kept stealing glances at me. He noticed that I was quieter and more self-involved in the couple of days that I spent in this world. I doubt he would ever bring it up to me, but he looked a lot less uncomfortable in my company, which was definitely an improvement from flinching everytime I did anything near him. Probably due to me not spending my days picking on him anymore.

As soon as I got home, I asked 'my' dad for a blowtorch. I honestly am not certain which was weirder, the fact that he had one at the ready, or that he was willing to lend it to me without much of a second thought. I'm not going to go too in depth about my escapades around selling the gold, but I found a pretty run down but still well kept shop that asked no questions on the validity of goods coming in, and got a pretty alright deal with an invitation to come again.

Ah, the Kings Cross station. Man, when I first read the books, I wanted to be here, filled with childish excitement and happiness. Now; I won't lie, it was still incredibly exciting. However, I was not particularly looking forward to dealing with a bunch of influential children.

I did NOT know where the entrance to the platform was. Although, it really wasn't that difficult to figure that out. I extended my arm out to stop Harry, who was dragging his massive amount of luggage, as well as his new owl, Hedwig, perched up on top of his suitcase.

-"Here, Harry," - I pointed in the distance, towards a sea of redheads. -"Do you see how they are walking through the wall? That's the entrance to our train."

Harry, straining, followed me. Hey, it wasn't my fault he bought so much junk in the alley! Although I managed to duck past the Weasleys, they caught Harry, started questioning him on why he was alone on a public platform. I suppose the canon has a tendency to repeat itself, doesn't it? In my opinion, the matriarch of the Weasley family wasn't paid off by Dumbledore, or was trying to set him up with Ginny, she was just incredibly motherly to any and all abandoned kids. I think the Wesleys genuinely did wish the best for the young chosen one; however, I shall wait and see how this plays out, and whether I was stuck in a universe with an evil Dumbledore.

Making my way past all the kids and crying parents on the platform, I threw my bag into the baggage compartment and made my way down the train. Now, the custom was that, before the train departed, all of the compartment doors were to remain open, so that people wouldn't have to open every door to see if they could come in. Thus, making my way down the length of the train, I was able to see all of the colorful people lazing around in their seats. The one I decided to settle on was the one with Hannah, and a redheaded girl.

-"Oh, hello Hannah," - I peeked my head in - "Is this seat taken?"

-"Oh, no, no." - she quickly responded. -"Feel free to come in."

The redhead had a pretty evident look of surprise on her face.

-"Hannah, you know him?"

-"Ah, yes. We meet at Madam Malkin's a couple days ago." - she replied. - "You guys, don't be strangers! Introduce yourselves to each other."

Alright. It's time to see what I know about the pureblood etiquette. I gave the girl a slight nod, inviting her to speak. She looked surprised, and pleasantly taken aback.

-"I'm Susan Bones, you?"

-"Dudley Dursley. Pleasure to meet you."

-"Same here."

-"Just call me by my first name." - she smiled at me.

-"Same here." - I smiled back.

I was about to dive into my book about occlumency, when a very familiar voice came from the doorway.

-"H-Hey, Dudley… Could I sit with you guys?"

Now this was a voice I didn't think I'd ever hear say that. I guess being stuck in a very unfamiliar situation really makes you cling onto anything that is familiar.

-"Oh, sure. Girls, let me introduce you to my cousin, Harry Potter."

It was rather amusing to see their eyes widen. Susan was the first to recover, and went ahead to introduce herself.

After the introductions, the conversation went to more miscellaneous things: specifically, Hogwarts and its houses.

-"Where are you hoping to get into?" - Susan asked. -"I heard that Hufflepuff has the nicest common room."

Susan, as was in the canon, was going into Hufflepuff. Along with Hannah, of course. Hannah somehow got the intel that the kitchens were located next to the Hufflepuff dorm room, causing Susan to drool slightly. Although, to be honest, I can not judge others for liking food. This body, left to me by its previous owner, was rather plump, I'd say. My musings were interrupted, however, when Harry piped up from beside me.

-"I want to go to Gryffindor! I heard that Dumbledore graduated from there!" - He looked very ecstatic. No doubt Hagrid's work; the man absolutely adored Dumbledore, and probably sold Harry the idea of the best and most noble house of Gryffindor.

-"I'm not certain yet. It will probably be either Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff." - I haven't really given it too much thought beforehand, being involved in other stuff didn't leave too much time to just sit and think about it. However, now would be about the correct time to finally decide what house to join. Gryffindor falls off the list immediately: first of all, I am not a brash extrovert. Second, I do not want to be in a house that Dumbledore has control over, even if this isn't a universe with a manipulative Dumbledore. Slytherin follows suit; although I do want to intermingle myself with the nobles, I fear that constantly running around in front of them, no matter how polite I'll be, as a muggleborn, will be incredibly grating for them. Not all, of course. There are plenty who don't subscribe to such notions; However, the house is essentially run by those who do. Thus, this leaves two houses. Hufflepuff folks are incredibly nice and they stick out for one another, which would allow me to make good friends. However, Ravenclaw would allow me to read books and become a better wizard with better magical prowess. Yes; I think I will end up going to Ravenclaw, as in Hufflepuff I would need to keep up an incredibly friendly facade, and would probably not be left alone.

-"Yeah, it will probably be Ravenclaw."

Susan looked a tad bit down; after all, two of her newly met acquaintances would be in entirely different houses.

-"We will still have most of the classes together, though," - I quickly reassured her. She raised her head.

-"I'll look forward to it."

And then Susan and Hannah began drilling Harry on the topic of his upbringing and what the Chosen One knew about magic.

While they were doing that, I allowed myself to sink into the book about occlumency. As it turns out, most fanfictions get it right; the mindscape is a tangible thing, that, should you master occlumency, would allow you to easily access any memory or scrap of knowledge with lightning fast speed. However, many are wrong in saying that your memory-scape is like a library. It is up to the person in question to determine how their mind would look like. Currently, my headscape is apparently like a soup of emotions, memories, and knowledge simply floating around, waiting to come out. The book stated that it is first necessary to learn how to access your headscape, and outlines this "short" method in excruciating detail over five chapters. I think I understand it? Maybe. We'll see. Anyways, I would need some alone time to figure out how to access my head.

In the meantime, the cart lady came along, and Harry bought almost everything off the cart. Some things never change, do they? Susan helped herself to them immediately, but Hannah refused. The way to Hogwarts was almost perfect. Almost.

-"I am looking for Harry Potter."

It was Malfoy. Of course. Who else could it be? Unfortunately, Harry had no foresight, and instead of saying that he had no clue where the 'Chosen One' was, he straight up willingly acknowledged that he was indeed Harry Potter. I inwardly groaned. I had hoped, fruitlessly, that my first day at Hogwarts would pass without this brat. Alas, that was not to be.

-"Ah, Harry Potter. I am Draco Malfoy." He glanced at everybody in the compartment, and furrowed his brow when his gaze fell on me. I said nothing. -"Who are you?"

-"Dudley Dursley." - I looked into his eyes and gave him a nod.

-"A muggleborn that knows his manners? That's a rarity these days."

Jesus, I want to punch him in his face. I nodded again. He turned to Harry again.

-"You know how to pick your friend group..." - He looked at me scathingly - "...well enough, I guess."

I silently grit my teeth. What sucked the most was that I couldn't really retort. I mean, I could, but I didn't want to alienate such a powerful family right off the bat. Maybe there was something that could be done about me not being a noble.

-"Oh, " - Harry chimed in. -"He is my cousin!"

Well, his mouth hung open lower than that of Hannah and Susan.

Well, at least for the remainder of the train ride he didn't show his face. Hermione and Neville came on through a couple times looking for a toad, but didn't stop to chat. Even the boat ride was uneventful, apart from the breathtaking view of the castle. It was large, alright; standing on the top of a large cliff it towered over everything in its surroundings, sending the first years into a stupor. As our boats glided softly on the mirror-like lake I casually remembered that _there was a giant fucking squid in the lake. _Oh lord. How was this safe?

-"Oy, you there! Is this your toad?" - The gentle giant found it while checking the boats when we all unloaded.

-"Trevor!"

Well, at least he found it.

The great doors swung open at once. Out of the giant wooden doors came out a rather tall and lanky elderly woman.

-"The first' years, Professor McGonagall," - Hagrid politely introduced us.

-"Thank you, Hagrid. I'll take it from here."

We followed her until we reached the Great Hall. She talked about the houses, information which I blissfully ignored, knowing all of it. Next, after that, she told us to wait while she got everyone ready in the great hall. I'm almost certain that this was just part of an old tradition made just to psyche every first year out. With all of the talks about having to potentially fight a troll, I was ready to admit that the first years were doing a splendid job of scaring themselves shitless.

She pushed open the entrance of the Great Hall. It was massive. You could probably fit the entirety of the Dursely's house in there, and still have room for the backyard.

The Great Hall, fitted out with thousands of floating candles and an enchanted ceiling, was straight out of a fairytale. If only I could relax and just look at it, without the eyes of six other years watching us walk to the sorting hat.

After we got to the hat, it began to sing. I will spare you, the reader, the horrors of the hat's song. You can thank me later. Meanwhile, McGonagall was unraveling her large list of names.

-"Abbot, Hannah!"

And off she went.

-"Hufflepuff!"

It was rather interesting to see. Everyone that I remembered from the canon were in their rightful house.

-"Dursley, Dudley!"

Oh, that's me! I put the old ragged hat on. Oh, that's weird. The hat's voice comes directly from my head.

-"Where would you like to go, Dudley? I can see bravery, but not brashness. I can see slyness, and ambition to be more. I can see your thirst for knowledge, and to be better than you are. I can also see your loyalty to a cause, and your desire for true friendship. The choice is yours, young one."

-"Ravenclaw, please. I want to learn things."

-Alright. It's up to you, after all… RAVENCLAW!" - The hat yelled out the last part to the whole hall.

The table second from the left gave me a big round of applause.

When we got to the dorms, before we went to sleep, Professor Flitwick gave us a small pep talk.

-"Hello, young ones," - He began. -"Here, at Hogwarts we are a family. We all here know that we want to learn more. This house is a house of the pursuit of knowledge. Since we all know that, I will tell you one thing. Do not interrupt a man when he is reading. Thank you, now go to sleep."

What a humorous man.

-"By the way, " - He continued. - "I entirely forgot to tell you that the clubs on the school grounds, such as quidditch and dueling, will only be available starting from your second year, and trips to Hogsmeade only starting from third or up. In order to leave the premises of the school, you will need to obtain permission from the headmaster. Understood?"

A collective and tired nod followed his words.

-"Good. Now shoo. Go to sleep."

It was rather amusing, actually. Everybody was constantly murmuring about my darling cousin. Which, obviously made him incredibly uncomfortable with the constant attention and rumors circulating around him. Yeah, it didn't look like he was having too much fun. He apparently got caught by Peeves the very first morning at Hogwarts, and was headed to his first class soaking wet.

I, myself, wasn't quite exempt from the attention given to Harry. Many, upon realizing that I was his darling cousin, tried to smooch my ass to get as close to Harry as humanly possible. I, of course, being a polite Englishman, told every single one of them to go eat shit and die. Too harsh? Maybe. Do I care? No.

The classes were very interesting. Astronomy was actually useful, as many rituals rely on specific constellations being visible. However, studying astronomy was not something I cared about, given that many, if not all, of the rituals that had manuals provided the necessary constellations and times of the year in their descriptions. Astronomy was only truly important if one was looking to create new rituals or enhance already existing ones.

Herbology was not very necessary for me either; as I had nowhere to plant magical plants, as well as the fact that they were relatively cheap, meaning that there was no real need to grow them. Of course, it was important to know if some plant was dangerous or not, but it wasn't really the kind of knowledge I was dying to learn. I would probably keep paying attention during class, but I was sure as hell was not going to go out of my way to learn it.

History of magic. A potentially interesting subject that could teach the histories of the noble families and rituals, as well as important magical findings. However, that was not at all what this class was shaping out to be. The professor, a ghost, droned on about goblins. Now, don't get me wrong, it is important to understand the backstory and motivation of the creatures that handle one's money, but I don't think this man himself knows what he is talking about. In the first lecture, the _first_ lecture, he mixed up the names of two different goblin warchiefs. This really looks like a class I won't pay any attention to.

Professor Flitwick taught Charms. It was an interesting subject. Supposedly, Flitwick became an international champion due to his mastery of charms, so the class left me looking forward for more

Transfiguration was another pleasant class. McGonagall, although strict, was fair, and expected competency. I'd imagine being able to make things out of other things was pretty important in dueling.

The defense against the dark arts was exactly like described in the books: good subject, and Quirrell really played the paranoid stuttering idiot well. Yeah, this class was absolutely worthless until a competent teacher shows up.

Oh yea, there is something I feel needs to be mentioned. Harry and Malfoy, surprisingly, weren't really enemies. Now, they weren't the best of friends either, but they tolerated each other's company. Harry and Ron did end up getting relatively close and they ended up upsetting Hermione during Halloween.

I won't get involved with what Harry and his clique are doing, but I got the feeling that I would be hearing a lot about their escapades from the expansive Hogwarts rumor mill.

Instead, after I finished assimilating into Hogwarts, I decided to start reading books that I could find on certain things. First of all, I decided to read the guides to pureblood etiquette. After all, I doubted I can get by on what I know from my very casual first life. During my study sessions I was joined by Susan and Hannah, who sat around, doing homework and talking about the recent happenings. In addition, I was able to access my mindscape. It wasn't anything special, being an unorganized mess of all the happenings. I am aware that the next step of my occlumency trainings would be the creation of a place to hold the knowledge, and then a wall to keep all the meddling professors out of my head.

Hannah had taken a liking to herbology, and had been rather happily discussing the beneficial effects of mandrakes. Susan wasn't sure yet. To be honest, neither was I. But Hannah decided to pry.

-"Well… Do you know what you are gonna be when you grow up?"

Susan was the first to pipe up.

-"I want to be the Head of Magical Law enforcement!"

-"Just like your aunt?" - I asked.

-"Oh?" - Susan's eyebrows shot up. -"How did you know?"

-"Well, many people do enjoy their gossip…" - I wasn't about to tell her that I read it in the books from the different world.

-"Well, yeah..." - she confessed. -"Although I do want to be even better than her!"

She sure sounded enthusiastic. I'll hope that she will take her dream job seriously.

-"And what about you, Dudley?"

-"A politician."

-"Why?"

-"Good question." - A question that I don't know the answer to. I suppose it stems from the fact that I want to be somebody who has a lot of power and influence. But thinking about it, I don't need to be a politician to have power. All you need is a couple of bought lobbyists and a good amount of money in your coffers. Although, if you are a politician, and you are rich and magically powerful, like Dumbledore, you don't really have to worry about other lobbyists and people questioning you. And then you can freely do what you think is right. I guess I just want to do what I believe to be just. Sure, one can ask what authority do I have to determine what is right, and what is wrong. But the answer to that is simple. My authority. -"I just want things to be fair, I suppose…"

-"Me too!" - Susan sure was excited about her aunt's job. -"What about you, Hannah?"

-"Probably something related to herbology," - She mused. -"It would be really nice to have my own greenhouse."

In addition to learning in the library, I also decided to come to the dueling club meetings to see what they are doing. I don't remember it from the canon, so maybe it is just a quirk of this world. The club was, similarly to the Quidditch club, broken up into houses, with each house training the best of the best. The duels were similar to the Quidditch, with one team per house. However, the difference was that each house had a member for each year, starting from second year. The rules, from what I was able to gather, were simple. A clean hit, aka a one shot takedown, awarded the team ten points, and ended a round. A graze, or any damage with a spell that wasn't enough to take down was worth four points, and any landed physical blow was worth one. Each year had fights in between all houses, with three rounds for each fight. Essentially, a fourth year would fight each other selected fourth year three times. Each contestant would have nine matches in total. Apparently not many first years ever showed up to the club just to see how it played out, and Flitwick decided to organize a small 'show off' fight just to impress me.

At first, it was a fight between two second years. A show of what I would be doing next year, huh? Flitwick began the count off. On count three, the two contestants were still smiling. On count two, the smiles were wiped, and replaced with determination. On one, the wands went up. And then they began.

The two immediately began casting. The left one cast first. She quickly sent an expelliarmus and a spell I didn't recognize. The boy, the one on the right, shielded himself. However, he only shielded the first spell, removing it for the second one. I wasn't entirely certain why, as the second spell was still flying right at him. He entirely ignored it, and went on the offensive. The spell hit him and disappeared, leaving me incredibly confused. He cast a tripping hex and ducked the girl's reactionary spell.

I continued watching this exchange, and couldn't help but notice that the boy was being pushed back. He was skilled, no doubt, but his dodging maneuvers were a little too slow, and he was giving his opponent time to react to his new whereabouts. And I was right; on one of the boy's dodges, he was caught by a petrifying charm, and fell flat on his face.

The club clapped, and Flitwick undid the charm on the kid. Then he turned around and asked:

-"What'd you think, Mr. Dursley?"

-"That was really cool," - I enthusiastically told him. And it was. It was very interesting. -"I'm just a little confused. What was the spell that the guy just absorbed in the beginning?"

-"That is called a shield breaker. It, as you can probably deduce from its name, breaks shields and any other channeled spells. It severs the connection, and sucks out some energy from the user if it interrupts a spell.

-"Huh. But wouldn't it make more sense if you cast a shield breaker and then an expelliarmus? The girl on the left did it the other way around…"

-"Oh, a perceptive one?" - He smirked. -"You see, those who have just started practicing magic, are unable to do spells without a certain amount of wand waving. Many spells require young students to perform different wand movements, and certain spells flow into one another simply by momentum. For example, if one of your spells ends on a downward motion, and the other begins in an upward, it would be impossible to chain them together until you are able to circumvent the wand motions, making it so it is too slow to cast a spell chain like that."

Interesting. So there was a hard limit that one has to overcome in order to be able to duel on a professional level, with all the options available to you. One needed to be able to cast spells without moving their wand in order to be able to chain things.

-"Well, why don't we show our guest what he should be striving to be like! Come on down, folks!"

He called down an older looking boy and a girl, now seventh years.

And they began.

This time it was the girl who took the initiative, carefully weaving colorful spells without any unnecessary wand movements and only sparse incantations. She ran to her side, opening with a four spell chain, all in a quick succession. Her opponent, seemingly recognizing the spell chain, didn't even attempt to block, and sidestepped it. However, he immediately conjured a stone wall in front of his new location. And good thing he did, as the wall immediately shook from an onslaught of spells. The boy jumped on top of the wall and cast a Bombarda. The girl jumped back, but it was obvious that she was grazed by the explosion. Then, suddenly, she went invisible. The boy quickly jumped off the wall and cast Hominum Revilio, and the girl came back into visibility. She wasn't surprised by that at all, and regained the initiative, pushing the boy closer to the wall. She conjured two rock walls to the boy's sides and cast a petrifying charm directly onto him.

The boy created another wall in front of him, entirely walling himself in. The girl smirked, and cast a Bombarda. However, that smirk froze on her face, as she fell backwards. The boy suddenly dispersed his invisibility and appeared at the side of that structure. Flitwick undid the petrification and congratulated the two. The boy about his quick thinking and application of the invisibility charm along with escaping being walled off, and the girl on improving her chains and the ability to take initiative. However, he did ask her if she knew how she was knocked out.

-"Yes, professor. While I was gloating about locking him in rock walls, he cast a disillusionment charm, and went through the wall behind him, coming out and immobilizing me."

-"And what did you learn?"

She looked dejected.

-"To never be arrogant and underestimate my opponent in fights."

Flitwick nodded contently.

-"And what did you think, Mr. Dursley?"

Well, the session was informative. It sure showed me what I would have to get better than, in due time. This motivated me to seek out the library, and I found myself spending an overwhelming amount of time in there. It was a good thing that Hannah and Susan decided to join me on study sessions. Although I didn't spend too much time researching spells beyond concepts: I still needed to grasp how to cast the basics, as I was not consistent on them yet. Most of the time was spent theory crafting potential strategies and methods of fighting. But I think I will hold off on that, and wait for Flitwick to teach me what and how to duel; after all, self-teaching only makes mistakes worse.

What I did do, however, was search the library on the subject of nobility and houses. Essentially, I wanted to see if it was possible for me to become a noble. Interestingly enough, there wasn't too much information on the fact. I did find something stating that should you avenge the murderer of the entire Most Ancient and Noble house, you can become a noble. But I don't know any murderers that are oh so simple to just murder. A thought crossed my mind, that maybe one can just ask the minister of magic about it, kind of like knighthood; however, I'm not sure if he even has jurisdiction in that area. Maybe I can ask the goblins? They would probably be able to help me. Especially if they get paid...

And with all that, the year drew to a close. An incredibly uneventful one, curiously enough. It seems that being related to a Potter has no impact on whether you get into loads of trouble or not. I had nothing to do with the Halloween troll, nor Norbert, nor the philosopher's stone. Harry and his duo of friends sure did though. Everything went about as it did in the canon, save for Draco and Harry. They weren't as much if enemies as they were rivals. Equals, one could say.

One of the main reasons for them not being enemies stems from the fact that Malfoy wasn't interested in Quidditch, but rather focused on trying to get into the dueling team next year. He was not threatened by the fact that Harry is a brilliant seeker, and is therefore almost entirely impartial to his success. Almost.


	2. Chapter 2

/* _Hello friends. How are ya'll doin'?_

_Good? Good. I'm doing fine, thanks for asking._

_Have fun and R&R */_

Vernon and Petunia greeted us with some reservation. I could tell that they weren't quite certain of how to feel about the two of us. They still mostly berated and pushed Harry around - but much, much less than they did before. It was pretty fascinating, seeing their worldview change after a whole year. Having their darling son be a wizard did wonders on them. They even, without much struggling, allowed him to stay at the Burrow with the Weasleys for the remainder of the summer. I was actually a little jealous; the Durselys would not allow me to leave anywhere for a prolonged amount of time, wanting their precious little darling to stay with them. So the majority of the summer was very boring and unproductive. Not all, of course, as I could not handle sitting on my ass the whole summer and do nothing. So I managed to convince Vernon to give me a ride to Diagon Alley - and back - a couple of times. The first two were me exchanging muggle pounds for galleons, and then melting and selling them to the vendor. Quite a boring and repetitive task, but I am glad that there was no trouble. None of the folks I exchanged with asked where I got the goods, and I managed to avoid weird questions and confrontations. Goblins either didn't catch on yet or didn't care, and the muggle gold buyer was just an old man who had seen his fair share of oddities, and never questioned them anymore.

After all that exchanging, I finally approached the goblin clerk at Gringotts to schedule a meeting with a financial advisor. When he first heard the question, he looked at me with the most mocking and dry expression I have ever seen in my life. He stood there, looking at me like that - seemingly attempting to bully me out of my request. However, I stood my ground. I needed to get myself an account keeper.

The goblin sighed, as if my request was the most burdensome task he had ever received, and motioned me to follow him, leading me through the maze that is the back of Gringotts. A gold and marble fitted maze. Quite peculiar, not gonna lie. It must have been so expensive to build… it left me wondering why the wizards - that won the goblin rebellions of 1612 and 1752 - didn't ransack this place after victory in the wars.

The goblin teller simply opened the door in front of me and left. Sitting in a high chair and counting a collection of shiny gemstones, right ahead of me was a rather crooked and lanky looking goblin; he just barely lifted his head and emotionlessly drawled:

-"What do you want?"

Well, at least he didn't ignore me.

-"I just have some questions."

-"Everybody does. What makes your questions special?"

-"An amount of things, I hope."

He raised an eyebrow and eyed me with some curiosity.

-"So what?"

That threw me for a stupor. Honestly I haven't ever felt anger boiling up to my throat before. God the goblin was a pretentious fucker.

-"I don't know, how many muggleborn try to start their own Noble family?"

-"Not many, I assure you." - He went back to his work. -"I can't help you with that."

-"I am willing to pay."

-"I'm sure you are, huma..."

His speech was cut off as a bag of gold plopped right onto the desk.

-"I would really appreciate it," - I spoke with an eerie calmness. -"If you would help me with it."

-"Well… Perhaps I could make some arrangements and look into it..." - Man; I knew that goblins were incredibly greedy… But I kind of assumed that their greed had some bounds -"You said something about making your own Noble house, did you? Perhaps I can help you…"

He wanted more money, didn't he? What a cunt.

-"And perhaps I can talk to a different goblin?"

-"No, no need," - he didn't sound too disappointed that his ploy didn't work. - "Why don't you follow me to the ritual room, and we check if you have any hidden inheritance to claim?"

-"Wouldn't that cost me a hundred galleons?" -I narrowed my eyes, remembering the price the teller told me in the beginning of the first year.

-"Well, not quite," - The goblin grinned a toothy grin - "If you can reimburse me for my troubles, the procedure will cost you absolutely nothing."

I pulled out fifty coins and silently pushed the stack towards him.

-"Splendid," - His grin almost doubled; how, exactly, I wasn't certain. The previous grin was already ear to ear, and this one unnaturally took up almost the entire face. -"Follow me."

Well, just as both I, and, apparently, the goblin suspected, the ritual about finding out my inheritance was fruitless. I wasn't banking(heh) on it revealing anything, but you know, it never hurts to check for shortcuts.

Leaving the ritual room, the goblin led me back to his office.

-"Well, human, I can get you some information on the topic. But…"

-"It's gonna cost me." - I finished his thought for him. -"here, have a hundred galleons as an advance. If you find actual information, I'll pay you more."

The goblin's face split in another one of his disgusting smiles, and we shook hands.

The rest of the summer went by rather slowly. I wasn't interested in neither my old muggle 'friends' nor what my 'parents' had to throw at me. Throughout my summer I traded galleons for money only a couple more times, before embarking on my search for the creators of the Timberblast, the future makers of the Firebolts.

Finding out who was responsible for the creation of the brooms wasn't difficult. It was a duo of wizards, Elerby and Able Spudmore. Their company had existed for more than half a century, but had recently taken some heavy blows economically due to the steep rise in competition with the release of the, frankly speaking, vastly superior Nimbus models.

The hard part of the whole crusade for their location was the fact that people didn't really know or care where the headquarters of the Elerby and Spudmore were located; some of them knew who they were, but couldn't tell me where I could find them. It took me a couple of long and rather grueling hours of hopping from store to store and person to person to obtain any worthwhile information.

The whole search for the broommakers brought me to the Knockturn Alley. A truly dodgy place, I have to say. Due to all the sketchy looking individuals snooping and ducking from one store to another, never staying in one place for too long, the atmosphere was that of general unease. In addition to the gloomy and depressing sight of the alley, the assortment of goods for sale definitely made it that much more unsettling. From what I could tell, one of the stores sold fleshy human body parts - the store front had an unnerving amount of eyes staring blankly into the alley. There was a supply of supposedly cursed items, and I was inclined to believe that they were, in fact, actually cursed. There were things that I could not identify, such as a twitching pile of goop sitting on a pedestal in one of the shops, or a ring that looked far larger than any human finger; honestly, I would rather not go into too much detail about the different horrors and intricacies of this alley. I was here for one thing: the so-called 'information centre'. Somebody in the Diagon Alley tipped me off to this place - a place where the crooked nosed clerk collected and sold information. As far as I was aware, he sold almost any type of information: locations, people, and government secrets. Of course, the more high profile information cost enough to bankrupt almost anybody. Almost. Those "almost"s frequented the shop, buying information on politicians and upcoming Wizengamot decisions.

The door opened in front of me just as I was about to lean in for the handle. Slowly creaking open, it revealed a very dusty shack, chock-full of large tomes. The old books quietly rustled their pages at me, as an intricate greeting of sorts. In the middle of the towers of those books sat the crooked-nosed old man. He seemed very old and lifeless at first glance, but a single look, a single look into his jumpy and collecting eyes said everything one needed to know about this dangerous individual. No secret, no lie could be hidden from that man. He reminded me of Olivander somewhat. His unblinking stare saw right through you, and made you continuously uneasy.

-"Hello, seeker of information," - He croaked. -"You've never walked through these doors before. I remember every single soul that entered this humble abode of mine…"

Somehow, I didn't doubt him.

-"Did they all manage to leave?" - I couldn't restrain my curiosity.

The man smiled a small, but telling smile.

-"Are you paying for that?"

-"No, no, no. I came today for something different. " - I quickly back-pedaled. -"Do you know where Elerby and Spudmore broommakers are located?"

-"Are you paying for that?"

-"Yes, yes I am."

The man sat still for a couple of long moments, and suddenly turned his head backwards at an alarmingly unnatural angle. After a couple extra seconds of silence, he spoke up again.

-"Yes, I do know where they are." - his voice grated against my eardrums. -"That will be twenty galleons."

I was almost certain I was being ripped off; however, I realized that raising a commotion over that would not be the smartest thing to do. I handed him the twenty gold coins and thanked him for his efforts. As I was about to leave, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a smirk.

-"You are smarter than you look, seeker." - his voice barely reached me.

As I was about to turn around to ask what the hell he meant, the door shut in my face, and I forced myself to get out of Knockturn Alley as fast as I could.

With the address in hand and a hood on my head, I mustered the courage to knock on the dark oak door in front of me. At first, nobody answered. The prolonged silence made it seem as if they had not had a visitor in quite some time. Seconds turned to minutes, and minutes dragged on with the same pleasant sensation as nails on a chalkboard. Soon, however, a sound broke the silence. It was footsteps; they slowly and resoundingly echoed down the stairs, deliberately thumping on every step. Upon getting closer to the door, they stopped for a moment, and a surprisingly normal voice asked who I was and what I was doing on their property.

-"Hello there," - I began. -"I would like to enquire about your broomstick business."

-"Well, it ain't much of a business no more," - he sounded very suspicious of my presence. -"Ever since the Nimbus, we have been incredibly short on money, and will probably close in the next couple of weeks."

-"I would like to buy your company."

The man behind the door was silent for what seemed like an eternity.

-"Come on in, we will talk inside."

The negotiation went by pretty smoothly. I was lucky to come to them when I did; when they were running out of money, but haven't yet come up with the idea for the Firebolt. I wasn't quite expecting that they would actually sell their company to me, but they did. The terms were pretty simple: I allowed them full creative freedom without interruption, as well as monetary support should they require it, and they would provide me with 50% of their earnings. Overall, a day well spent, in my opinion.

One of the mornings, the doorbell rang. Not an unexpected occurrence, but still unnerving. I was the only one home. With a sigh, I ran down the stairs. Opening the door, I was greeted with a pair of redheads and another, more mellow, individual.

-"Good Morning!" - the man began. -"Dudley Dursely, I presume? I am Arthur Weasley, Ron's father."

-"I'm Fred!" - One of the redheads jovially introduced himself. - "And this handsome man is…"

-"George, at your service!"

-"Uuuuhhhh…" - I stood there, entirely shocked. -"Yeah, I'm Dudley Dursley..." - Not too polite, I realize, but they caught me by surprise.

-"I am excited to meet you, Dudley. Harry hasn't really said much about you, but we just felt it would be right to have you and Harry go do your shopping together. You are family, after all."

An unexpected turn of events. Not exactly an unpleasant one, however. This played exactly into my plans. I was going to intercept them anyways, seeing that I really needed to get the diary without raising a fuss. Getting the diary was crucial; the last thing I wanted was for a deadly basilisk to be roaming the halls of Hogwarts.

-"Well, good morning, Harry"

-"Morning, Dudley." - He said as I neared the muggle taxi that would be used to transport us to the leaky cauldron. -"How was the summer?"

-"Pretty uneventful." - I half lied. -"Kinda sucks we can't do magic outside of Hogwarts…"

-"Yea," -Ron butted in. -"Honestly, would it kill them to let us?"

-"It's so we don't get discovered, Ron" - Harry rolled his eyes. -"It sucks, but I think it's for the better."

Our little conversation gave me time to look at the whole Weasely family. All were redheaded and freckled individuals, with the only ones standing out being the twins, who spoke in a very particular way, and Ginny, a flaming hot redhead who got even redder whenever her gaze even near approached Harry.

And with that, we arrived on the scene. Harry and the Weasleys left for Gringotts, while I split off to the Knockturn Alley. They didn't want me to leave, arguing that a kid like me had no business running around such a crowded place on my own, but I, with the help of Harry, who remembered that I've already gone off shopping on my own before, was able to convince them to let me go out without their supervision.

My destination in the Alley was the shop of magical artifacts. Borgin and Burkes, I think it was called? They masqueraded as an antique shop, but they loved buying and selling expensive, and rather questionable in nature, artifacts. It was the store that Malfoy would buy the cursed necklace and the closet.

The alley was just as creepy and unnerving the second time around. There was still the same amount of people as in the last time I visited, as those who hung around this place usually hung around here as a way of life. I walked past the shrunken human heads and the Dystyl Phaelanges, a shop that sold human bones, and made my way towards Borgin and Burkes.

Instead of coming in immediately, I took a quick peek into the store; and good thing too, as in the middle of the store stood none other than Lucius Malfoy. I wasn't about to walk into the store with the man, as I didn't want to potentially throw him off his plans. So, in the meantime, I made my way towards a different magic artifact store. This place was a lot more open about their selling of dark artifacts.

As I opened the door, it hit a wind chime, which echoed in the large store. The shopkeep was an unnaturally tall and frail looking woman. She towered over the desk that she was sitting in, and had to slump uncomfortably to be able to even see what was happening on her desk. When I walked in, she paid me no mind. Hard on hearing, maybe? I cleared my throat. She did not respond. I cleared it louder. She did not respond. I borderline yelled:

-"Excuse me!"

-"No need to sssssshout, kiddo." - She craned her neck in my direction. -"My hearing issss perfectly fine."

I refrained from commenting on her ignoring me.

-"I am looking for an artifact with a certain purpose,"- I began. -"Something anti-compulsion…"

-"Ahh, yessss…" - she hissed. Part lamia, perhaps? -"we have ssssssome…"

After this rather expensive purchase, (50 galleons don't grow on trees, you know?) I quickly hopped into an artifact shop in Diagon Alley, just to verify that the ring I bought was exactly what I wanted, and didn't get scammed, I made my way to Flourish and Blotts.

It seems that I've arrived just in time; Mr. Weasley and Lucius Malfoy had not yet started their argument.

-"Bet you loved that, didn't you, Potter?"- said a voice I had no trouble recognizing. Draco Malfoy, wearing his usual sneer. - "Famous Harry Potter, can't even go into a bookstore without making the front page."

-"Leave him alone, he didn't want all that!" - said Ginny. It was the first time she had spoken in front of Harry. She was glaring at Malfoy.

-"Potter, you've got yourself a girlfriend!" - drawled Malfoy.

Harry started looking a bit peeved; he didn't want to be in this situation, and Malfoy's incessant attacks certainly didn't help. Ron and Hermionie were making their way through the droves of people, trying to make their way to their friend.

-"Ron, Harry!" yelled out Mr. Weasley, struggling over with the twins. - "What are you guys doing? It's too crowded in here, let's go outside."

-"Well, well, well, if it isn't Arthur Weasley." - It was Lucius. He stood with his hand on Draco's shoulder, pretentiously grinning in just the same way.

-"Lucius," acknowledged the man Mr. Weasley, nodding coldly.

I didn't pay attention to the rest of their conversation, but I was aware of the fact that it grew more and more heated with every passing second; instead, I was eyeing Lucius to make sure that he had his diary on him. Unfortunately, I couldn't quite notice it before their verbal fight turned more physical.

\- "The company you keep, Weasley... and I thought your family could sink no lower... " There was a thud of metal as Ginny's cauldron went flying; Mr. Weasley had thrown himself at Mr. Malfoy, knocking him backwards into a bookshelf. Dozens of heavy spellbooks came thundering down on all their heads; there was a yell of,

-"Get him, Dad!" from Fred or George; Mrs. Weasley was shrieking,

-"No, Arthur, no!"; the crowd stampeded backwards, knocking more shelves over;

At the end of the short, but rather sweet to witness encounter, Mr. Weasley had a cut lip and Mr. Malfoy had been hit in the eye by an Encyclopedia of Toadstools. He was still holding Ginny's old Transfiguration book. He thrust it at her, his eyes glistening with malice. "Here, girl - take your book - it's the best your father can give you..."

And that was my cue to act. I, quickly, but making sure that Lucius was able to see me, made my way to Ginny. As soon as I got there, I, in one motion, swept the horcrux up and immediately hid it in my jacket. I did a fake "looking around and looking for potential witnesses," motion, to show Lucius that the diary was in the hands of one sleazy and greasy muggleborn. He definitely need not worry that I will keep this secret to myself.

And he definitely saw my machinations. First, his face morphed into concern that he might be found out, but that concern was soon replaced with relief and a certain sort of malice; no doubt believing that I will have what happens to me coming. But I paid him no attention; the diary was mine, and nobody knew about it.

After getting home I stormed into my room as fast as I could. I didn't even say hi to Petunia or Vernon. I was excited to start talking to the diary. As I opened it, I put the anti-compulsion ring on. You can never be too cautious, as they say. I took out my pen, put it to the paper, and…

I stopped. What do I even write? This thing inside the diary was a soul shard of an incredibly vile dark lord. This man was responsible for the death of a girl. And, although this version of him in the diary had not yet waged a war on Wizarding Britain, he was still a pureblood supremacist who would hate me with every fibre of his being. With an audible sigh, I put the pen down onto the paper.

-"Good morning, Voldemort."

What followed was a full minute of silence. I even shook the diary, wondering if something was wrong with it.

-"_Who are you? I do not recognize your handwriting,_" - It read. -"_How do you know my pseudonym?_"

-"I know who you are and who you will become, Tom Riddle." - Now to act all high and mighty. -"I am also aware of your half-blood heritage."

Another minute of deafening nothing.

-"_So what? What are you planning on doing with that knowledge?_"

-"Nothing, Tom 'Voldemort' Riddle." - I wrote. -"I was just making an introduction."

-"_Well, hello to you too…_" -The way he trailed off at the end of that sentence implied he wanted my name.

-"Dudley Dursley; a twelve year old muggleborn at your service."

-"_I don't believe you._"

That's fair. To be entirely honest, that's not at all believable. I probably wouldn't believe myself had I been in Riddle's place either.

I spent the rest of the summer trying to convince him of the fact that I was who I claimed to be. Honestly, I am pretty sure he was still unconvinced by the time autumn rolled around.

The train was slowly reving up it's engine. With it beginning to depart, two people slowly entered my compartment. I casually looked up from the diary. It was Hannah and Susan. As they settled in their seats, I noticed that Hannah was very distant. She didn't greet me, and, from what it seemed, resolved not to talk to me.

Susan was the exact opposite. She seemed explosively angry, and fidgeted on the edge of her seat, almost as if waiting for something to tip her off. Hannah gave her a nod, and she went off on me.

-"What the hell, Dudley Dursely?!" - she sounded incredibly pissed. -"I thought we were friends!"

-"What? We are friends!"

-"Then why did you not respond to Hannah's invitation to her birthday party?"

-"Invitation? What invitation? I never received one?"

Now it was Susan's turn to be surprised. She immediately deflated, and all of her anger seemingly just snapped out of existence.

-"You… what?" - she asked puzzledly. -"You didn't receive yours?"

-"No, no I didn't… Are you sure you sent me one?"

-"Yes," -Hannah interjected. -"I made sure to include and mail your invitation."

Peculiar… We sat in almost absolute stillness, contemplating what could have happened. Then suddenly, just as this conundrum was dropped on my head, the answer hit me. Dobby. That elf stole not only Harry's mail, but also mine, just to be sure that Harry would feel extra lonely. The plan didn't work, of course, as Harry just spent most of the summer at the Weasleys house.

The fact that my face suddenly lit up must have caught the attention of the girls, as they were drilling me with their eyes for answers.

-"Somebody stole my and Harry's letters."

Susan glared at me thinking I was making a joke at such an inappropriate time, but blanched when she realized I was serious.

-"What?"

-"Don't worry about it, I had it sorted out."

They didn't look too convinced.

-"Hannah, I'll make it up to you, okay?"

Susan was about to object, but seeing that Hannah was satisfied with the outcome, decided to drop it.

-"Are you planning on joining the dueling club, Dudley?"- Susan awkwardly changed the topic.

-"Yes, yes I am." - I happily obliged with the sudden change of conversation. -"What about you?"

-"I am," - Susan seemed very proud of that. -"I just hope that Sprout is a good dueling teacher."

That reminded me of an interesting quirk in this version of the Harry Potter world. The teachers in charge of the house were leading their respective dueling clubs. An extraordinary task, in my opinion. In addition to teaching main courses, they had to maintain and educate their constituents on dueling. I got a better deal than other houses, bar, perhaps, Slytherin in the professor category, as a world class dueling professor was pretty sweet.

-"What about you, Hannah?"

-"No, I think I'll just focus on herbology." - she answered. -"Did you know that you can make 27 different types of poisons from a Fanged Geranium?"

Not much has changed from one year to the next. I do have to say, sitting at the table without everybody's eyes burrowing into you is a nice change of pace. Definitely a lot better not being a first year, and having to put on the hat.

Besides the good old fact that everyone was a year older, the only noticeable change in the curriculum was Defense Against the Dark Arts. Now, instead of the class being mind numbingly boring under a frightful and stuttering professor, it was headache inducingly hyperactive, courtesy of a very certain poser who did an awful job pretending to be a professor. I am talking about Gilderoy Lockhart, of course. The first day we had him, he passed out a quiz on how well we read his "autobiographies." Of course, autobiographies are in giant quotations, as he had never actually done any of the things he claimed to have done. It was incredibly unsettling. How can a man be so vain? So absolutely narcissistic and guilt-free that he will pose and flaunt with badges that he did not even earn? What kind of absolute clown is he, to expect all to be his salivating admirers? Worst of all, what kind of person has lilac as their favorite color?!

Other than this absolute deficit of a class, the only other thing that stood out was the dueling club.

The first meeting of the club was held about a week after the school started, and was a rather exciting time. About ten of us, second year ravenclaws, decided to join the dueling club. Flitwick seemed rather excited; apparently this was a relatively large batch of students. He was happy to start teaching us; it is always nice to have a teacher that is passionate in his work. He got all of us into a corner where there was a pre-stacked pile of books. Climbing on top of the rather racquety looking structure, he addressed the newbies.

-"Hello all of you!" - He began jovially. -"Whether you came here just because of friends peer pressuring you to join, or you came because you want to learn how to fight, there is a place for all of you here. Of course, only one of you will be nominated to represent ravenclaw in the tournament at the end of the year, but I hope that you will be able to have fun and learn valuable lessons on your journey in this club."

The newbies didn't respond, simply staring down the overenthusiastic professor. His enthusiasm did not waver, and he coughed before resuming his speech.

-"I hope that you all will become friends, and, perhaps, become friends with the other duelists from other houses. Anyways; The first session is not going to involve any spells -" - Cue a very audible groan from the entirety of the newbies. He paused, and raised his hand in a stopping motion. - " I just want to impart a single lesson into you. Never underestimate your opponent. Never underestimate the power of a single spell, as even the greatest of mages could be brought down with a single stunner. Your vigilance will bring you many victories, and your boastfulness and inattentiveness will cause many defeats. Anyways; I am glad all of you decided to join our club. Our next meeting is next week, but I believe you guys have something beforehand…"

He gave us an exaggerated wink, and let us go.

On the way out of the door, one of the senior club members pulled us aside, looked around, and whispered:

-"Tomorrow, fourth floor, east hallway, 4 o'clock."

Immediately turning around and not even checking if we heard him, he went back into the room. We looked at eachother, shrugged, and went back to our dorms.

And thus tomorrow came. Came faster than I expected to, but what can you do. As the time slowly crept up to 4 o'clock, I decided to ask around if anybody knew what the hell this was for. The first years stared at me blankly; second years were just as confused as me, but the rest just silently giggled to themselves at my persistence and told me to wait until the time was right.

And, after a relatively unsettling wait, the time was right. All the Ravenclaws that were part of the club all stood up and marched towards the east hallway on the fourth floor. It was probably a very bizarre sight to behold; about 50 students all got up at the same time and walked through the entire school. The older kids led the charge; after all, they knew what the heck was going on.

The wing was entirely empty, and consisted of about five vacant classrooms and one rather large hall. We all filed into the large hall in the back of the wing. We were not the first ones there; the Gryffindors were already making themselves comfortable on the benches on the far end of the hall.

As the time passed, the other two houses dragged themselves in, and we settled. When all four houses arrived, one older kid from each of the houses came down to the middle to begin the little meeting we had going.

They introduced themselves. The Ravenclaw and Slytherin seventh year students turned out to be prefects, and the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff students were distinguished duelists chosen to speak in front of the assembly.

-"Good day to you, old blood and new faces!" - The Hufflepuff seventh year began -"I think we are in order to explain what is going on to the new students." - He paused, purposely building tension, - "This is a fight club, of sorts."

Woah. That sure is a curveball. The Slytherin prefect picked up the mantle of continuing the speech.

-"Every week, at this time, you will be expected to show up and interact with the dueling club members from your year. You will be separated into years instead of houses, so we expect some not too friendly competition. However, you are warned that we do not allow anybody below fourth year to host their own duels without the supervision of at least two of us, as we do not expect any of you to be competent enough to be able to deliver the loser to the hospital wing should something occur."

The Gryffindor butted in:

-"That's why you should reserve your grudges for the last Friday of the month." - He and the rest of the quartet smiled, and I heard a couple chuckles from the audience. - " Every month, in this room, we run a set of matches. Most of the professors don't know, and the ones that do sometimes come to watch and bet. Did I forget to mention that you can gamble on the contestants? Just don't set any matches, and everything will be fine. These matches are for everyone; have an argument with somebody? You are welcome to resolve it in this arena. Mortal enemies? In the arena. Hazing? In the arena, of course. One rule, however, is that the older kids are not allowed to call the younger ones on a duel, instead, the younger kids must be the first ones to request a duel with the older kids."

With all the information relayed to us, we all went into our separate rooms. It was about thirty second years, all rather clueless and looking around. Except for one. Immediately after we all funneled into the classroom and the older kids left, Malfoy took up the reigns of being the leader of the bunch. With Crabbe and Goyle at his sides - who, no doubt, joined the club just to be with Malfoy - he took up the mantle of speaking. And honestly, I would have been fine with him being our de facto leader, if he didn't suddenly start speaking to me.

-"Dudley! Dudley Dursley! You know where Potter is?"- He was clearly trying to get under my skin. -"Have you decided to take up dueling cause you know you can't compete with your cousin in Quidditch?"

-"It's quite unlike you to praise my cousin." -I responded. -"And no, I simply have no interest in Quidditch; I would rather duel."

-"Wait, do you actually believe that your fat arse has any chance to do well at dueling?" - He laughed. - "Then how about you prove it to me, mudblood. Prove it to me in the arena, a month from now. If you lose, you have to quit the club."

Is that what this was all about? A show for the world that the purebloods were superior to muggleborns? Quite an interesting year to do it, too. What are the odds that Malfoy senior told Draco to do something in this vein to get more people ready for the diary and the basilisk to shine? Pretty high, I presume. I was such a perfect target too. A relative of a mythical Harry Potter. If he was to defeat me, he would show that even the best muggleborn stands no chance against the purebloods. Of course, that will be if he CAN defeat me.

-"And what if I win?"

Draco smiled a diabolical grin.

-"You will not."

-"You will owe me." - I didn't want to leave the terms too open ended, but I also didn't want to spend my day negotiating terms for a stupid duel.

-"Sure, mudblood, whatever." - The youngest of the Malfoys scoffed.

-"Then it is settled."

Getting back from the conglomerate, I was stopped by a familiar ginger-haired girl.

-"Are you sure it's a good idea, Dudley?" - Susan sounded pretty worried. - "We haven't even had any lessons yet! And Malfoy is a pureblood! He was most definitely trained by his father!"

-"Yes, im sure. I don't know if I can win, but I sure as heck will try."

-"Well… I hope you know what you are doing." - Susan looked skeptical. -"Just don't get hurt, okay?"

-"I promise, Susie."

-"Don't call me that." - Her eyes narrowed.

-"Okay, Susie."

And with that, I ran to the Ravenclaw dorms.

The first thing I did upon plopping down on my bed was open the diary.

-"Hello Tom." - I began. -"Malfoy junior just challenged me to a duel. Would you happen to know why?"

-"_Oh? So you ARE Dudley Dursely._" - The diary mused. Its writing never budged, always writing in a perfect cursive. -"_Yes, I do know some things. Why should I share them with you, though?_"

-"You have no reason to." - I replied. -"Honestly, I have nothing to gain from that knowledge; just to sate my curiosity."

-"_You know what? Alright. If only just to alleviate some of my boredom. Lucius did tell me that Draco, his son, would duel you."_

-"Did he tell you why?"

-"_To show that muggleborns are inferior to us, of course._" - the writing felt incredibly condesending as if he simply stated an obvious truth, and I was dumb for even asking such a question.

-"What about the chamber? How did that play into his plans?"

The diary fell silent. It just sat there; Either broken, which is very unlikely, or in a state of quiet contemplation. So I decided to give it time, and left the dorms to have a small thinking session for myself.

The night truly did highlight the beauty of the castle. All the nooks and crannies looked stunning in the pale moonlight, contrasted heavily by the onset natural darkness present throughout. It was a battle between light and dark; a battle that sat at a prolonged stalemate, as the shadows assumed the forms they would have for the remainder of the night. The only thing that disturbed this silent conflict were my heavy footsteps. I found that thinking came much easier to me when I was greeted by silence and silvery moonlight.

I thought about the upcoming duel. As it currently stood, I had no chance at defeating Draco. I was untrained AND out of shape. What would be my trump card in this and other fights? I have absolutely nothing that separates me from other kids. Not an absolutely broken spell, not an endless supply of magical energy, nor any ability to learn faster than others. I had nothing.

Well, maybe not quite nothing. I was ahead of all the kids mentally; perhaps I could use that to my advantage in fights, by playing mind-games and by creatively using the environment? Perhaps.

The time spent pondering life's greatest mysteries brought me to my destination. To the closed girl bathroom on the second floor. I wanted to check out the sink that was the entrance to the chamber of secrets.

Making my way through the stalls, I sighed with relief; Moaning Myrtle was nowhere to be found. Maybe she decided to take a swim in the great lake? Mayhaps. Her motive didn't matter. What did matter, however, was that she wasn't there to disturb me.

I went through only a couple of sinks before finding the small little snake engraving on the back of one of the faucets. Predictably enough, the faucet didn't work. Honestly, it's kind of fascinating that a faucet that had never, in the history of Hogwarts, worked, never got investigated or anything. Another logical abnormality was that this bathroom sat right on top of the Great Hall; how the sink hid a straight drop to the chamber is an unanswered mystery. However, it meant that I probably would not be able to just remove the sink using 'conventional' means and gain access to the chamber. Well, let's take the occam razor to this. Is there any way to just waltz into the chamber? There are only two options. I let the diary possess me, or the diary teaches me how to say 'open' in snake speak. The first option fell off the table as soon as it became an option, as the last thing I want is to be mind controlled by a budding dark lord. As far as I remember, Ron remembered a phrase and was able to recreate it, so I can't see how I can't do something similar. Or, I suppose I can just learn the language in its entirety. I know that it's supposedly impossible to do, but parseltongue is characterized by how little people know about it, so it may, in fact, be possible.

Perhaps I can convince Tom to let me into the chamber? If I feign ignorance about what is inside, he could believe that he can open it and get me killed by the basilisk or take over my body. After all, he does not know that I have the ring to protect me against mind compulsions, and I am aware of the fact that the snake is hidden away until a code phrase is said.

With that, I went back into my dorm room. Opening the diary, it contained one single phrase.

-"_What do you know about the chamber?_"

Smiling, I went to work.

I took my newfound responsibility of standing my ground against Malfoy to heart, and started going out on runs every day.

I have to tell you, it was not a smart idea to attempt a marathon on my first try, and I certainly paid for it. I fell asleep in Transfiguration, and was given week long detention. That somewhat cut into my plans of convincing the diary to take me to the chamber. But, maybe that's for the best. Maybe he will mind-game himself?

On the next meeting of the dueling class, I was approached by a fellow second year Raven. He looked over me practicing my stunner, and spoke:

-"Hey… You are Dudley Dursley right?" - He began - "I was quite impressed that you were able to stand up to the Prick"

-"You have to cement yourself, or you will never get any respect from the slytherins." - I replied with a nonchalant shrug.

-"I don't think you need respect from those prudes." - He scoffed. - "Name's Anthony, Anthony Goldstein."

-"Nice to meet you, Anthony." - I could see him fidgeting, seemingly trying to ask a question. - "Where you gonna ask me something?

-"Oh, yes." - His face lit up, as I gave him an easy way to approach the question. -"Can I be your second?

-"My second? Isn't that the person who will take care of me should I get killed or seriously injured?" - I questioned. He nodded, and I extended my arm for a handshake. -"Sure."

Anthony grinned and gladly shook it.

-"Beat the crap out of Malfoy, will you?"

And then was my turn to smile.

After the class, I asked Flitwick if he could offer me advice on the upcoming fight. He nodded knowingly, and stayed with me after class.

-"This fast?" - He asked me after the class was over. -"You couldn't even wait until the second week to get into trouble?"

I sheepishly rubbed the back of my head.

-"I'm sorry, professor. I didn't have much of a choice."

-"I understand, I understand," - He waved his hand dismissively. -"Just realize that you got yourself in a heap of trouble. Well… there isn't much to be done about it. You have a nearly zero percent chance to beat Malfoy in a fair fight; your only hope is to be unexpected. He was probably taught standard chains and how to answer them. Your only hope is to catch him off guard by casting out things he won't expect."

He taught me chains, mind-game chains, and general tricky tricks to throw off my opponents. By the end of the session I was magically exhausted, and wanted nothing better than to plop on my bed. However, instead of embracing the sweet heaven located in my dorm, I was forced to straggle my way to the transfiguration classroom and serve out my detention. The same pattern continued out through the month.

The only change of pace, and not necessarily for the better, were the underground club meetings. They always began all the same; with Malfoy gloating that he can beat a mudblood any day of the week. Towards the middle, he would settle down, and join the rest of the group in demonstrating and showing off the things that everyone learned from their teachers the previous day. Towards the end, everyone sat around and talked about the things that were happening in Hogwarts. Malfoy looked like he wanted to blurt something out, but was struggling with himself to keep it in.

He did have an air of natural importance and power to him; otherwise other Slytherins would have discarded and ignored his antics. Instead, they were always squarely on his side, supporting his endeavours. And I don't quite believe it was due to his father; if it was, the Slytherins would be gossiping behind his back, and following him with a lot less eagerness than they did. The fight promised to be interesting.


End file.
